


Meet Me in the Afterglow

by seekrest



Series: The Secret Sessions [14]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: (except they refuse to acknowledge it), F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Michelle Jones is a Little Shit, Mutual Pining, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, and there was only one bed, and they were ROOMMATES, canon nudged to the left, its just me and my whims now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:41:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28371786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekrest/pseuds/seekrest
Summary: “We’re meeting in like an hour and I really, really want to make a good impression so--”“You’re leaving now, just in case something happens,” Michelle finishes for him, Peter winking at her before shooting finger guns.“Bingo.”Michelle rolls her eyes playfully. “Loser.”“You love me!” Peter calls out as he rushes back to the bathroom to finish getting ready, a warmth in her chest as she shakes her head.Yeah, I do.
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Series: The Secret Sessions [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1537501
Comments: 314
Kudos: 164
Collections: Spideychelle Secret Santa - 2k20





	1. Fighting with True Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HanukoYoukai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HanukoYoukai/gifts).



> For the spideychelle secret Santa! A fic trope bingo that has already gotten away from me... 
> 
> Hope you enjoy Hanuko!

“Honey, I’m home.”

“Nice,” Michelle says with a smirk as Peter steps into their living room from the window, watching as he rips off his mask and grins back at her.

“Trying to switch it up. What do you think? Sound like a winner?” Peter asks, ruffling his hair with his hand before sliding the window closed.

“Doubt it,” Michelle easily replies, Peter laughing in response as he presses the seal in the center of his chest. Michelle tacitly ignores the way the suit falls down to his feet, feeling her heart race a little and hoping desperately Peter chalks it up to the coffee she’s drinking as she goes to take another sip.

Whether he does or doesn’t, she’s glad when he walks towards the bathroom— suit in hand as she steals a glance at the boxers he has on.

“Iron Man boxers? _Really_?”

“Don’t,” Peter says with a hint of warning, almost pleading with Michelle as he turns back around to her— walking backwards as he says, “It’s the last pair I had. Please. Do _not_ make a thing about it.”

“Too late Iron Boy Jr.,” Michelle says with a smirk, something that turns into a laugh from how Peter groans. “You’re never gonna hear the end of this.”

Peter groans again, Michelle smiling to herself as he grumbles something under his breath and heads back to the bathroom. 

If the sixteen year old version of herself could see her now, Michelle’s sure she’d think it was a figment of her imagination -- an illusion from Mysterio or some other bullshit. She’d pined over Peter endlessly in high school, unrequited and in the background as she watched Peter run off to fight C-grade villains nearly every day. They hadn’t been friends until after the Blip, bonding in a way that only being dusted out of existence could make you. By then, having a crush on her secret superhero classmate wasn’t on her radar— focused instead of relearning how to be a daughter to parents who’d lost her and how to be an older sister to someone who was older than _her_ now. 

The sixteen year old version of herself had her sights on Harvard but the post-blip version set her sights on the city— a familiar comfort that worked out in her favor when so many of the friends she’d made at Midtown ended up being her friends at ESU.

That friend group including one Peter Parker.

“Where’s the soap?” She hears Peter call out, going to yell back where it is when Peter interjects, “Never mind, found it!”

“Dork,” Michelle mutters under her breath, shaking her head and laughing as she turns her attention back to her laptop.

Even post-blip Michelle would’ve been hard pressed to believe she would find herself here— still being roommates with Peter, even _after_ Ned moved out to live with his boyfriend. 

Michelle wasn’t in a hurry to move out, not when finding a decent apartment with her grad student stipend was downright impossible. Peter for his part didn’t seem all that eager to move out either, not just for the cost but for the reality that Michelle now knew his secret— one he’d inadvertently revealed her to late one night during their junior year of college when she had been hanging out with Ned and Peter had come home, passing out in the living room, unable to make it to the Avengers Tower and to Tony Stark’s well-stocked medical team.

She’d stitched him up then, just as she’d stitched him up hundreds of times over the years-- a side job in and of itself that Michelle didn’t mind. 

Especially since seeing him half-naked usually leads to seeing him completely naked, _another_ thing the sixteen year old version of herself wouldn’t have believed.

Before she gets a chance to wonder if that particular part of their roommate agreement will come into play, she hears the water turn off-- trying and failing to reread the last paragraph she’s been staring at for the past fifteen minutes when Peter rushes out, catching a glimpse of his bare torso as he runs to his room.

“Where’s the fire?” Michelle deadpans, knowing by now that Peter ran through life like he was running out of time-- almost literally considering how perpetually late he was to everything.

“Hah. If you knew the pun you just made, you’d hate yourself. Or me, if I made it funnier,” Peter calls out from his bedroom, Michelle hearing the sounds of his dresser being open and shut-- just as she hears him swearing under his breath from stubbing his toe.

Michelle barely stifles back a laugh as he walks back into the living room, jeans on and still pulling a shirt over his head as she asks, “Do I want to know?”

“I uh, got a date tonight,” he says with a sheepish smile, ruffling through his hair again, “with Johnny Storm.”

Michelle’s eyes widen and her mouth opens before she can stop it, Peter’s grin forcing her to clamp it shut before she says, “Johnny Storm?”

“Right?” Peter says, as if he couldn’t believe it himself. “We bumped into each other at Pour Over and got to talking and before I knew it…” Peter trailed off, Michelle smirking at him from how dazed and distracted he looks. 

“He swept you off your feet?”

“Something like that,” Peter replies with a smile. “Anyway, we’re meeting in like an hour and I really, _really_ want to make a good impression so--”

“You’re leaving now, just in case something happens,” Michelle finishes for him, Peter winking at her before shooting finger guns.

“Bingo.”

Michelle rolls her eyes playfully. “Loser.”

“You love me!” Peter calls out as he rushes back to the bathroom to finish getting ready, a warmth in her chest as she shakes her head.

 _Yeah, I do_.

* * *

The sixteen year old version of herself might’ve had a crush on Peter Parker but the twenty-six year old version loved him.

Not _in_ love necessarily, despite what Ned seemed to think.

On paper, Michelle could admit that it seemed suspicious at best. She’d moved in with Peter and Ned during their senior year of college when her own roommate moved across the country for a job. She’d _continued_ living with her boys during the two years after graduation she worked at a nonprofit and didn’t feel like moving when she got accepted into grad school at Columbia. 

When Ned said he wanted to move out a year ago so he could move in with Rafael, Michelle had wondered if their easy arrangement would come to an end-- only to be relieved when Peter approached the topic of finding another place just for the two of them, one that would be closer to Columbia and easier for Peter to swing off into the city when he needed to.

Yet Michelle knew, just as Ned did, that sharing an apartment with Peter wasn’t why Ned was convinced they were in love with each other and were just too stubborn to admit it-- something Michelle outright denied because of how ridiculous that was.

Michelle knew herself, knew her feelings and knew Peter. 

They were friends. With some benefits, in more ways than one. 

* * *

Michelle’s sitting in the same place as he left her when Peter comes back home, her laptop now charging and a book in hand with the remains of her takeout on the coffee table.

Michelle jumps a little when he opens the door, glancing at the time on her phone before putting it down when Peter closes and locks the door behind him. 

“Hey. Didn’t expect to see you back here tonight,” she says with a smirk, curiosity flowing through her at just how bad a date Peter Parker actually was if Johnny Storm called it quits.

“Me neither,” Peter says with a huff, slipping off his shoes and going over to their fridge. He disappears from view for a moment, Michelle sliding her bookmark into the book when he starts to walk over to her— the cheap beer in his hand and his body language indicating that he wanted to talk.

“Were you still late?” She asks as he plops down on the couch, glaring at her before taking a swig of his drink.

“No,” he says, Michelle watching his Adam’s Apple bob up and down as he drinks, bringing the beer down before he continues, “I was on time. There weren’t any paparazzi and things were… going great, I thought.”

Michelle waits, never one to try and prod out a conversation if the other person wasn’t interested in sharing when Peter exhales loudly.

“But then his phone started buzzing for some ‘emergency’,” he pantomimes with his fingers, “saying it was Four business and he had to leave.”

Michelle pauses, quirking her eyebrows before she says, “okay?”

“If it was _Four_ business, don’t you think _Spider-Man_ would’ve gotten an alert too?” Peter says, understanding dawning on her as Michelle nods.

“Don’t they do different things than Spider-Man anyway? He could be telling the truth,” Michelle offers, only for Peter’s shoulders to sag before he shrugs.

“Maybe, but the way he made it sound, it was in the city.”

He smirks, looking back to her with a sad smile on his face before saying, “Looks like I’ve been ditched, MJ.”

Michelle makes a face, setting her book on the coffee table and bringing up her phone as he asks, “What are you doing?”

“Checking social media to see if Johnny Storm is full of shit. He can’t breathe without some idiot live-streaming it. There’s gotta be someone out there who can verify it.”

Peter laughs, Michelle glancing up to him before saying, “Unless you’d rather not know?”

“Oh no, I definitely want to know. My anxiety wouldn’t let me rest otherwise but,” he grins, turning to face her and leaning his hand against his propped up hand, “I don’t know what I’d do without you, MJ.”

“Fail miserably at life,” Michelle deadpans, only to grin at him as he laughs.

“Yeah you’re probably right,” he says, taking another swig of his beer. “Good thing I don’t have to right?”

“Good thing,” Michelle says with a smile before turning her attention back to the task at hand.

* * *

Despite Peter’s less than stellar interpretation of Johnny dipping out of their date, it didn’t take long to find out that he was telling the truth— some tweets and a few Instagram stories documenting Johnny Storm flying around the Baxter Building just after he left Peter. 

It also _doesn’t_ surprise her that Peter being pleased that he hadn’t actually been ditched turned into him showing his appreciation to her in an all too familiar way, tightening her grip in his hair as he buries his tongue deeper inside her.

“Right there,” Michelle gasps, Peter humming in response as she starts to rock against his face— the benefit of being _friends_ with Peter showing itself as he brings her closer and closer to the edge.

Michelle knew that _this_ was why Ned called bullshit on them being “just friends”— something Michelle could understand since performing sexual favors wasn’t exactly a traditional tenet of friendship.

But her and Peter had an understanding, an easy going and comfortable friendship that sometimes included sex. 

They were both attractive, young, single people who found themselves in each other’s beds by virtue of being in proximity to each other. When they weren’t single— the “benefits” part of their friendship cooled off but since neither of them had anything more than a few dates between them for the past several months, it had been more of a consistent thing lately.

Michelle understood how it looked and knew if it was anyone else, she’d think that she was being an idiot.

But it wasn’t anyone else— it was _Peter_ , someone who had become far beyond a distant crush and one of her best friends— who also just so happened to be as talented with his tongue inside of her as he was with his quips as Spider-Man.

It didn’t bother her that had the night gone differently, Peter would’ve been using his talents elsewhere. Especially since it was clear to the two of them that the physical thing between them was just that— physical, a way to ease the tension and frustration of everyday life, much less everyday dating woes. 

Michelle lets out a harsh gasp when he finally brings her over the edge, feeling boneless and like she’s having an out of body experience when she hears the crinkle of a condom. Her chest is still heaving when Peter crawls on top of her with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Good?”

“Shut up,” she pants out, Peter still smiling when he reaches down between them, his eyes fluttering as he slides himself alongside her before slowly pushing in— groaning in clear pleasure as Michelle brings her hands around his waist.

“Are you— uh— gonna text Johnny back?” She asks as he starts to move, slowly at first before falling into a rhythm that makes her toes curl.

“Yeah, yeah, maybe—“ he groans as Michelle rakes her fingers down his back, “But he should probably be the one who texts _me_.”

“Why? You like him right?” Michelle says, Peter’s rhythm increasing as she throws her head back— working in tandem with him as he burrows his face into her neck.

“Yeah,” he moans, “yeah, he’s— he’s— _fuck_ , MJ you feel so good.” 

Michelle doesn’t bother responding, already embarrassingly so close to falling over the edge again from the tilt of Peter’s hips and the slick way their bodies move together.

It was probably weird, Michelle encouraging him to ask someone else out when he was inside her— but weird is how their friendship has always been, knowing for a fact that Peter would do the same considering the reason she even went out with her last girlfriend was because of Peter talking about Ella when he had been fingering her during a failed movie night at their apartment.

If the sixteen year old version of herself were told about their relationship, she would think it’s ridiculous or dangerous or both, but the twenty-six year old version of herself was mature enough to know it worked.

He was Peter. She was Michelle.

What else was there to know? 


	2. Chemistry Till It Blows Up

“You’re an idiot.”

“What?” Peter asks, his reply garbled with the amount of food in his mouth. Ned is still staring at his phone, scrolling through something before he stares at Peter with a blank expression on his face, waving his phone around.

“Of all the people in the city you could’ve gone out on a date with, you chose Johnny Storm? _The_ Johnny Storm, human torch and People Magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive for the third year in a row?”

“And that’s a bad thing because…” Peter asks after chewing then swallowing down his food, grabbing his gyro for another bite when Ned sighs.

“Well for one thing, he doesn’t know about _you-know-who_ and I cannot see that going well considering how much he flirts with _you-know-who_. Don’t you think he’ll be pissed that you didn’t tell him the truth when he first asked you out?”

“I thought that was a good thing, actually,” Peter says before wolfing down another bite, Ned wrinkling his nose in disgust. “It shows he actually cares about _me_ and not you know, the other guy.”

“He doesn’t even know you’re one and the same,” Ned says exasperatingly, Peter shrugging in return.

“He will. Eventually. Maybe. It’s not like I’m that good at keeping it a secret anyway.”

“That’s not something to be proud of, Peter,” Ned deadpans, only for Peter to grin as he replies, “At least I’m self-aware?”

Ned playfully rolls his eyes before stabbing his fork at his own rice bowl, Peter content to keep eating his food before he has to rush back to the Bugle when Ned interjects again.

“And the other thing is so obvious, I don’t even know why I bother.”

Peter sits back, taking his time to chew his food and ignore Ned’s stare as he takes a sip of his drink.

“Stop ignoring me.”

“I’m not ignoring you,” Peter lies, glancing at Ned before balling up the foil his gyro was in. “I just fundamentally disagree with you.”

“Of course you do,” Ned says with a sigh, Peter throwing the foil away in the trash with ease from his place at the table. A few people look at him in smile, Peter awkwardly waving before turning his attention back to Ned.

“MJ and I are friends, Ned.”

“Friends who fuck, _Peter_ ,” Ned bounces back, Peter grimacing only for Ned to continue, “which is fine, whatever. Have at it but you both are absolutely fooling yourself if you think what you have is actually sustainable.”

“Why? It has been so far,” Peter says, feeling a prickle in the back of his neck not from his spider senses but from the inadvertent memory of how Michelle had looked like on top of him last night.

Sure, Ned is his best friend and knew better than anyone - probably better than _he_ wanted to - how often the benefits part of Peter and Michelle’s friendship was cashed in. But he was wrong about this, especially with the idea that this thing between him and Michelle was anything but physical.

She’d been his friend since Midtown, one of his _best_ friends since college— Michelle being one of the few people he trusted wholeheartedly. 

Michelle was determined and focused and smart and beautiful as hell— but if she was interested in him as anything more than a friend, she would’ve made that abundantly clear. 

Peter was a self-proclaimed dumbass but not a total idiot. If Michelle wanted something more out of their friendship or actually had feelings for him, she would’ve said— Peter thinking that the crush he’d had on her during their senior year of high school had clearly been unrequited for how focused she was on maintaining some kind of normalcy from the blip. 

Peter understood— it wasn’t exactly easy for him either, but becoming friends with Michelle was a welcome change to how life had been before, especially since that friendship had now evolved into getting the chance to get her off anytime she’d let him.

“It pains me how much you genuinely believe that,” Ned says with an exasperated sign, throwing Peter out of his thoughts as Ned continues, “really. It physically hurts me. Like an attack against my central nervous system.”

“You should get that checked out,” Peter says nonchalantly, Ned growling in frustration as he puts his head in his hands. “Heart disease is the leading killer of men in the United States.”

“I hate you so much,” Ned mutters, Peter grinning at him as he folds his hands behind his head.

“No you don’t.”

“No I don’t,” Ned replies, sounding resigned as Peter leans back in his chair— ignoring the glare that Ned is giving him. “But don’t come crying to me when it all blows up in your face. Truth hurts, Pete.”

“My life imploding is pretty usual for me, you know. Just another Tuesday.”

Peter expects the fork thrown his way. 

He dodges it anyway.

* * *

Despite his best efforts, Peter _does_ dwell on what Ned told him at lunch— reconsidering for a half-beat if maybe there was something to it.

It wouldn’t be half-bad, if he and Michelle actually became something more— not in Peter’s view anyway. 

May loved her, as did Tony, and according to Ned, half their friends seemed to think they were in love with each other already. 

She was one of his best friends. Peter loved her, loved being around her and was horny but self-aware enough to admit he liked sleeping with her.

But Michelle had never had a problem in asking for what she wanted and it was clear to Peter, in more ways than one, that of all the things she wanted from Peter— a romantic interest was not one of them.

Not directed towards her anyway. 

He’s still obsessing over how exactly to respond to Johnny Storm’s text later that afternoon, letting the cool air out of the fridge as he taps his thumb against his phone and debates what leftovers he wanted to reheat when he hears the door unlock— quickly closing it before she catches him and calls him out on burning electricity.

Only to frown when he sees the frustration on her face, wincing slightly when she slams the door behind her.

Peter has lived with Michelle long enough to know that when she had that look, it was better to let her direct the conversation— Michelle feeling a lot more comfortable unwinding when it didn’t feel as if it was being pulled out of her.

He waits as she slips off her shoes and stomps over to her bedroom, hearing her rustle around and drop her bag as he debates what exactly to do. He’s still vaguely hungry but if he knows Michelle as well as he thinks he does— she’s on the warpath, something that could easily involve her taking the stress out in the kitchen and baking something. 

He doesn’t have to wait long when Michelle comes back out of her room, changed into shorts and an old ESU hoodie as she pushes some hair out of her face.

“Hey,” she says with a huff, Peter smiling weakly at her.

“Hey. How’s it going?” Peter says a little too casually, Michelle staring at him before letting out another huff that almost sounds like a laugh.

Peter takes it as a win when her shoulders sag a little, walking over to where he is in the kitchen as she says, “Class sucked.”

“I gathered that,” Peter says carefully, eyeing her as she opens the fridge and squints at the contents— making a mental note to go grocery shopping with her this weekend as he continues, “anything about it in particular sucked more?”

Michelle sighs, closing the fridge either from discontent from what’s in there or from the days events before turning to Peter and saying, “Davis is an ass.”

“What’d he do this time?” Peter says with a smile, Michelle rolling her eyes and launching into a story that Peter pays attention to but keeps getting distracted from a curl that’s fallen out of her the ponytail she’d put her hair into.

It was amazing to Peter that Michelle could look this good still in a hoodie and shorts, but then again it wasn’t— thinking Michelle looked pretty every day of the week, telling her as much any chance he had.

She laughed it off as flattery most times and thanked him the rest but it was a fact of life— just as much as he breathed oxygen or swung around the city as Spider-Man.

Michelle Jones was beautiful and every day Peter pinched himself at the reality that he got to breathe her same air, much less be friends with her. 

But he’s clearly getting a little too distracted when he sees that she’s staring at him, squinting at him before she asks, “Parker, were you even listening?”

“Davis interrupted you three times and then went on to make it seem like you didn’t even know what you were doing,” Peter easily replies, Michelle’s squint causing her nose to wrinkle in the cute way it always did when she thought he was full of shit.

“Right,” she says, pushing the curl that had fallen out of her ponytail out of her face before saying, “I’m just glad there’s no group projects or anything. If this was undergrad, I’d murder him.”

“Remind me to never get on your bad side,” Peter quips, getting the grin he knew he would as she says, “Too bad. You’re already there.”

“Ouch,” he says, pantomiming a heart attack as he clutches his chest, only for Michelle to sigh as she shakes her head.

“He’s just so… aggravating. Like he thinks I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You want me to kick his ass?” 

Michelle gives him a look, only for Peter to amend, “Help _you_ kick his ass?”

“No,” Michelle says unconvincingly, “especially when Dr. Meyers sounded like she agreed with him.”

Peter chews the inside of his cheek, debating how to approach the next part of this conversation. Davis was a jerk in one class but Dr. Meyers was a professor that Michelle had butt heads with before, one that not so subtly implied that she only got into the program because of some bullshit that made Peter want to punch through a brick wall.

Michelle shakes her head, exhaling out of her mourn before saying, “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. I know what I’m talking about and I know what I can do.”

“Hell yeah,” Peter says affirmatively, Michelle smirking back at him only for her expression to shift slightly — a familiar look that causes Peter’s eyebrows to raise.

“You change your mind about the ass kicking?”

“No,” Michelle says, walking towards him slowly but with purpose, “just thinking you’re right and I know what I’m capable of.”

“You do,” Peter says, inexplicably feeling breathless as Michelle crowds up into space. “I don’t doubt you for a second.”

Michelle grins, before dropping down to her knees - Peter gripping at the counter he’s backed up again as his eyes widen as she strokes him over his sweatpants.

“You mind?”

“No?” Peter says with a huff, only to groan when Michelle starts to palm at him with a bit more fervency, already getting hard from seeing her sink down to her knees. “What’s the uh, occasion?”

“Stress relief,” Michelle says as works his sweatpants down, Peter willingly aiding her with her task only to groan when the only material standing between her hand and him is his thin boxers - thankfully no longer Iron Man themed but a simple black pair that is quickly becoming restrictive. 

“Is this okay?” She asks, as if Peter was grateful anytime Michelle existed in his space much less while looking at his erection with a smirk.

“Fuck yeah,” Peter says with a huff, only for it to turn into a groan when she works the boxers down and pumps her hand across the length of him— grasping at the counter behind him when she replaces her hand with her tongue.

Going down on _him_ as stress relief wouldn’t have been the first thing Peter would’ve thought of, panting heavily as she bobbed her head up and down the length of him. 

Then again, he can’t say he hadn’t done the very same thing before— taking out his own frustrations of a shitty day on patrol with the tilt of his hips and the swirl of his tongue, proving that he could get some things right as Michelle would writhe underneath him. 

It occurs to him, the last thing he can really focus on if only not to fall over the edge so quickly, that maybe Ned was right and there was something more to it— wondering if they were just fooling themselves to think there wasn’t anything more between them than friends who fucked for fun.

But then Michelle flicked her tongue just _right_ , pumped her hand just like _that_ and Peter stopped thinking about anything else.

* * *

“Harry’s back in town.”

Peter pauses, the seventh slice of pizza he has in his hand hanging inches away from his face. 

“Oh,” he says carefully. 

Michelle nods, picking off a bell pepper off her pizza and popping it into her mouth as she says, “I was wondering if I should text him. See if he wanted to meet up for coffee or something.”

Peter watches her carefully, Michelle continuing to pick off the toppings of her pizza to eat first and acting entirely too nonchalant for the topic of conversation.

Harry had been his friend first at ESU, introducing the two of them during their freshman year and sitting on the sidelines as he watched his old friend from Midtown and his new friend from ESU flirt and fall in love with each other. Peter was glad to see Michelle happy, even if he had his own misgivings about the longevity of their relationship.

It’s misgivings that he kept to himself, save for Ned who had his own ideas for why Peter was so reluctant to support them that he just ignored. He wasn’t surprised when their love story came to an abrupt end during their junior year, only to start and stop before finally ending for good just weeks before graduation. 

The breakup had been mutual according to both of them but it wasn’t lost on Peter that Harry immediately decided to work at the West Coast development of Oscorp and that Michelle had binge watched _Unsolved Mysteries_ alone in her room for a week straight after he left. 

Peter felt conflicted at the thought of Harry coming back to town-- not just because he genuinely missed his friend but for what this would mean for Michelle. 

“Have you heard from him?” She asked, Peter hearing the clear interest in her voice as well as the unaffected tone she’s trying to put off. 

He had, his text coming in only moments before Johnny’s and then being promptly forgotten until now.

“Yeah, but I uh, got a little distracted,” Peter says with a smile, Michelle rolling her eyes before nodding towards his phone.

“Speaking of distractions, have you heard from that walking fire hazard yet?”

“Yep,” Peter says, shoving his pizza in his mouth as Michelle wrinkles her nose, Peter saying with a garbled Louth, “He w’n meet ‘p.”

“Chew then say that again, _please_ ,” Michelle says with a sigh, Peter smirking and doing what he’s told as he amends, “He wants to meet up. Coffee date take two.”

“That’s good. See? He didn’t flake out. Not that you wouldn’t deserve it,” Michelle teases, Peter rolling his eyes and going for yet another slice of pizza as Michelle frowns.

“Did you want the—“

“No, go ahead,” Michelle says with a wave, “Just thinking you should probably eat something before you go. You eat enough for thirty guys and unless _Human Torch_ knows who you are under that mask then Johnny Storm is gonna be in for a hell of a surprise.”

“I _could_ tell him, it’s not like he wouldn’t be able to keep a secret,” Peter says while grabbing the pizza. “But that also seems kind of heavy for a first date.”

Michelle laughs, a sound that makes Peter feel at ease as she says, “For all he knows, _you’re_ the one stressing out about going on a date with a superhero.”

“Me? Feel intimidated by New York’s second favorite superhero? _Please_ ,” Peter snorts, only to make a face when Michelle banters back, “It’s hilarious that you think he’s second favorite when he’s clearly the first.”

“MJ, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

“On the side of truth, Pete,” she says with a wink, “truth hurts.”

Peter laughs as Michelle grabs her plate, going to wash it and shifting the conversation to some news story she saw the other day. 

Yet Peter’s mind goes back to his conversation with Ned and how eerily similar it was.

Truth hurts. Peter knew this.

But it wasn’t as if he was lying to himself about anything. 

_Right?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you saw me add more chapters to this, no you didn't.


	3. Just Wanna Lift You Up

“Why don’t you try this one?” Michelle asks, holding back a smirk as Gwen looks curiously at the dress only to frown and give her a look.

“ _Really_? It’s for a company event, not a burlesque show,” she says, even if Michelle can see the interest in her eyes Gwen’s fingers run across the material.

“It’s pretty though,” Michelle says with a smile, Gwen laughing as she takes the dress goodnaturedly. 

“It _is_. Maybe for another time,” Gwen says, throwing the dress over her arm and rifling through the racks in front of them. With Gwen’s paycheck, she could likely afford that dress and any other that she was interested in. 

Michelle wasn’t particularly interested in dress shopping because of her own qualms with the ethics of the fashion industry, but she rarely got to see Gwen much these days-- Oscorp taking up her time just as much as Michelle’s master’s program completely obliterated her personal life.

Gwen becoming one of her best friends had been a happy surprise considering how they met, Michelle thinking that she was alone in the apartment her, Ned and Peter shared at the time only to walk in and find Gwen and Peter on the couch, _also_ thinking they’d be alone.

The residual embarrassment fizzled out her and Peter’s short-lived hookup but Gwen had taken the initiative in smoothing out the awkwardness with Michelle, meeting up for coffee and finding that they had a lot more in common than having a soft spot for an idiot in spandex. 

The fact that Gwen _knew_ about Peter’s spider gig and kept the secret without ever saying a word proved to Michelle that she was a person she could trust-- a kinship that as time went on was based less on the guy that brought them together and more on a friendship that was all their own. 

“I should probably get some tea or something before class,” Michelle says as she glances at her phone, “how long do you have left for lunch?”

“Not long,” Gwen says forlornly, glancing at the delicate little watch on her wrist before her hand brushes against some of the dresses. “I should have something to wear that’ll be fine but I just really wanted something _new_.”

“You should,” Michelle says with a smile, Gwen beaming back at her, “you work too hard, Stacy.”

“You’re damn right,” Gwen says with a wink, going to say something more only for her eye to drift out over Michelle’s shoulder and her smile to fall.

“What?” 

“Uh,” Gwen says, uncharacteristically stumbling over herself her eyes drift back to Michelle’s as she says, “Take a deep breath and smile.”

Michelle does as she’s told, only to freeze when she realizes just who it was coming up behind her when she hears a voice that she hadn’t expected to hear again so soon.

“Hey MJ. Gwen.”

“Hi Harry,” Gwen says sweetly, Michelle turning as she exhales slowly, smiling at him as Harry’s gaze shifts from the two of them.

“Hi,” Michelle says, Harry clearing his throat as he says, “Hi.”

They stare at each other for a beat, Michelle feeling the awkwardness settle between them when Gwen chimes in, stepping next to her and asking, “Didn’t expect to see you soon. Are you here for the gala?”

“Yeah,” Harry says, tearing his eyes away from Michelle as he slips back into a professional smile that Michelle recognizes. “It’s to honor my dad’s work with some patent. I don’t know but the old man says I gotta be here so…”

“What Norman Osborn wants, Norman Osborn gets,” Gwen says with a small laugh, Harry nodding before shooting a glance towards Michelle.

Michelle was well-aware of what Norman Osborn wanted -- or didn’t want -- as the case may be. Norman had made it very clear that he didn’t approve of his only son dating “someone like her”, something Harry had fought tooth and nail against every single year only for it to be just one of the many reasons why their relationship eventually ended. 

“He’s not even going to be there. That’s the whole reason I had to show up, to you know,” Harry says with a wave, “be there and ‘represent the good Osborn name’ or whatever.”

Harry shakes his head and brings his hand down. “Stupid shit.” 

“Sounds like it,” Michelle finally says, Harry smiling at her as he shrugs.

“Part of the gig. You know how it goes.”

“Yeah,” Michelle says, Gwen nudging at Michelle’s side as she says, “I was just trying to convince MJ to come with as my date.”

If looks could kill, Gwen would be dead on the spot-- glaring at her from the corner of her eye only to turn her attention back to Harry as he says, “Yeah, of course. I mean if you want to come then--”

“I can’t,” Michelle says quickly, her mouth working faster than her brain can catch up with her. “I have a date.”

Harry’s eyebrows raise, looking a little surprised as Michelle inwardly kicks herself.

“Oh,” Harry says, recovering with the kind of grace that only came from having lived his entire life in the spotlight, “If uh, they’d like to come too, that’d be okay.”

He smiles weakly at Gwen who Michelle can tell is just as flabbergasted as Michelle’s outburst as is as he says, “It’s my party.”

“He can’t-- or, it might be a bad idea,” Michelle says, feeling completely unlike herself and for how much being around Harry Obsorn again makes her feel like an eighteen-year-old freshman falling in love for the first time. 

Harry blinks at her in confusion, Michelle figuring that she’s already dug a grave for herself and might as well throw herself inside as she says, “It’s Peter.”

Gwen coughs, Harry’s mouth opening then closing before it settles into a blank smile.

“Oh. He-- he didn’t mention that.” 

“It’s new,” Michelle says quickly, more mortified at herself now and her lack of quick thinking than she ever has in her entire life, “really, really new. And considering everything…” Michelle trails off, Harry taking her blatant lie without as much composure as anyone could to find out that your ex-girlfriend was not only living with one of your best friends but was also dating them.

“Yeah, I uh, I can see why he wouldn’t,” Harry says, clicking his tongue before taking a deep breath, exhaling slowly before forcing another smile on his face. “Well, if it’s Pete then definitely. You should come. Both of you.”

He nods to Gwen before looking back to Michelle. “It was good to see you. I have an appointment with the stylist here but I’ll uh, see you then?”

“Yeah,” Michelle says, completely mortified but holding it together as Gwen says her goodbyes-- waiting until Harry’s out of earshot before she turns to her.

“MJ, what the hell? Why didn’t you tell me you and Peter finally got together?”

“Because we’re not-- wait, _finally_?” Michelle asks, Gwen rolling her eyes.

“We don’t have time for this. I have to get back to work and _you_ have a story to tell.”

“There’s no story,” Michelle says, Gwen squinting at her as she continues, “we’re not together. Clearly, I’ve been spending too much time with his dumbass and just word vomited that out.”

Gwen looks as if she doesn’t believe her, only for a sly smile to form as she says, “well, it’s not like Peter won’t immediately agree to it.”

“Gwen, this is gonna be awkward as hell. What if he texts Peter before I do?”

“You know Harry,” Gwen says dismissively, “he’s gonna brood about it for a few hours before he finally reaches out. He seemed fine. It’s not like he wouldn’t have expected it anyway.”

“Gwen--” Michelle begins, Gwen holding her hands up in surrender.

“I know, I know. You’re damned and determined to believe that there’s nothing between you two but,” she smiles, winking at her as she adjusts the dresses in her hands and begins to walk to the checkout, “Freudian slip there in making Peter your fake boyfriend rather than literally anyone else.”

Michelle has nothing to say to that, following along with Gwen wordlessly before slipping out her phone and quickly tapping out a text to Peter. It’s not really something she wants to convey over text but with his schedule, it was anyone’s guess where he was. She can’t exactly afford to miss class but she _can_ warn him that Harry might be pissed at the two of them-- even if Gwen was right.

Harry had looked a little surprised but not at the two of them-- more that Peter hadn’t said anything. Michelle pushes that thought out of her mind, quickly texting Peter a run down of what happened as she walks with Gwen to the checkout -- already dreading how the hell she’s going to explain this to him. 

  
  


* * *

Her worry is for nothing it seems, the two of them folding their laundry together as Peter shrugs and agrees to pretend to be her boyfriend.

“How are you not weirded out right now?” Michelle asks, incredulous that Peter wasn’t more bothered by the fact that she not only put him on the spot but had made it so that he had to lie to one of his best friends.

Peter just purses his lips, folding one of her t-shirts and placing them in her pile as he says, “Cause it’s Harry and I know how you get when you’re around Harry.” 

“How do I get when I’m around Harry?” Michelle asks, Peter freezing as he glances over to her, watching as she folds one of his sweatpants before grabbing a pair of socks and balling them together. 

“I walked into that one didn’t I?”

“Yep,” Michelle says, unable to hide the smirk on her face, “And you didn’t answer the question.”

Peter sighs, placing the socks to the side before grabbing another one of her bras-- placing them in the same pile as the rest of them as he says, “I just saw the two of you go back and forth and back again. I know it was… rough when you broke up for good and if I can help make it a little easier then…” Peter trails off, Michelle watching him as he starts to fold one of his jeans. 

“I don’t mind. Plus, I think Harry might’ve minded more if you were hooking up with some rando than me, you know?”

 _No, that doesn’t make sense at all_ , Michelle says but doesn’t say, making herself let things go if neither Harry nor Peter seemed particularly bothered about it. She hadn’t said she was “hooking up” with Peter but that they were dating, a flash of something uncomfortable flowing through her at the realization that if she had let it stand as the former that she wouldn’t have been telling a lie. 

They _were_ hooking up, plain and simple-- falling into a comfortable silence as they folded their clothes and leaving Michelle to dwell on the fact that she hadn’t slept with anyone besides Peter for the better half of six months. 

It didn’t mean anything, despite what Ned or Gwen wanted to believe, but it did make her question if maybe they were becoming _too_ comfortable with each other when Peter’s phone buzzes-- the two of them freezing as Peter grabs it only to smirk as he swipes the message away.

“Do you have to go?”

“Nah,” Peter says, putting the phone down and smiling back at her. “It’s just Johnny. Figuring out what time he wants to meet tomorrow.”

Michelle bites back a smile, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that she can’t quite explain as she says, “You sure you don’t want to text him back? I thought you were excited to actually go out with him.”

“I will. I am,” Peter says, turning his attention back to one of _her_ jeans as he folds them. “But he’s just confirming the time. I’ll text him back later.”

He looks back up at her, smiling as he says, “It’s movie night.”

Michelle laughs, Peter finishing his little pile of the laundry and launching himself off the couch to put his stuff away. 

When he leaves the room, Michelle’s left alone to her thoughts -- thoughts she isn’t sure she wants to have and a feeling deep in her gut that the two of them may have bit off more than they could chew. 


	4. I Don’t Wanna Do This To You

Peter’s staring at his phone screen again, aimlessly swinging his legs off the edge of the building that he’s on. 

“Are you alright, Peter? You have not moved from this position for the past fifteen minutes,” Karen’s voice chimes in through his mask, Peter laughing as he shoves his phone in his suit pocket, zipping it up for good measure. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Peter says with a sigh, moving to stand as he looks out over the city. “Johnny cancelled on me again.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Peter,” Karen says, actually sounding a little sympathetic, “Would you like for me to play your ‘everything hurts’ playlist?”

“No, it’s not that bad,” Peter says, sending out a hand and swinging off into the city. “The Four had some SHIELD business they had to take care of and he couldn’t get out of it.”

“It must still be disappointing to have rescheduled for the third time,” Karen replies, Peter frowning under his mask as he mutters, “Yeah.”

On the one hand, the fact that this was the  _ third _ time that they’d tried to get together only for it to fall to pieces had to mean something. Parker luck was something that Peter never underestimated and Johnny for his part seemed apologetic and still interested -- even when Peter had been the one to cancel the second time around because of some stupid shit with a lizard in the subways. 

Ned would call it a sign from the universe, not that Peter was particularly interested in hearing that argument. He’d told Ned what happened with Harry, Michelle’s slip up and the fact that he now had plans for Saturday night. 

“You’re going to go to the Oscorp gala, pretend to be MJ’s boyfriend in front of her and half of New York’s elite which includes  _ Harry _ , not just one of your best friends but  _ also  _ MJ’s ex boyfriend so that you--” Ned had outlined, Peter waving him away as they played a video game. 

“It’s not a big deal,” Peter had said, even if the look on Ned’s face and his own gut told him that he was really pushing his luck to continue to argue that.

The thing is, he  _ didn’t _ think it was a big deal-- at least not when it came to helping out Michelle for a potentially awkward scenario. Harry had been surprisingly okay with the idea that he and Michelle were an item, Peter waiting for some kind of sarcastic or snide remark to arise from their text exchanges only for it to come to nothing. 

Then again, Peter thinks as we swung aimlessly through the city, Harry hadn’t exactly taken the initiative to meet up with him one-on-one, something Peter himself hadn’t done despite how much he’d missed him. 

“Peter, I’m getting a report of a robbery in progress three blocks to your left,” Karen says, throwing him out of his thoughts and back and into the action.

“On it,” Peter says, pushing thoughts of the gala and Michelle and Harry falling to the wayside as he jumps into action.

* * *

“Ow. Shit. Ow. Ow. Ow,” Peter mutters to himself as he slides the suit down in the bathroom, hissing in pain as he looks at the nasty looking gash across his midsection.

It was supposed to be a “simple” robbery, if you could ever call something like that simple. What was originally just some kids had turned out to be a cover for some stupid shit with Hammerhead, Peter getting the raw end of the deal and his afternoon going down the drain. Having to call out “sick” with Jameson went about as well as could be expected, even if Peter darkly laughed at the reality that for once he was actually telling the truth -- wincing as he grabbed some hydrogen peroxide from the cabinet next to their sink.

The bullets he’d dodged with ease but the knife that had sliced across him, a jagged gash that wasn’t healing as well as it should since Peter had inadvertently skipped lunch, made for a brutal looking injury-- Peter feeling a little dizzy as he stables himself against the sink.

“Come on, Parker. Get it together,” he whispers to himself, uncapping the peroxide and debating how to best do this when he hears the door unlock.

“Shit,” Peter says, closing the bathroom door and hobbling over to the shower-- not wanting to risk Michelle seeing him since she always got a little pissed when he got hurt, a cover Peter knew for how much she got  _ scared _ that he got hurt.

“Pete?” He hears her call out, Peter biting down on his lip as he steps into the shower and pours the peroxide on the wound, the pain immediate as he coughs.

“In the bathroom!” Peter calls out, hoping that’ll ward her away like it usually did-- only to gasp and rest his head against the tile when she knocks at the door.

“Are you okay? You sound like you’re dying.”

“Just-- I’m just in the bathroom. Doing bathroom things, MJ,” Peter says through gritted teeth, scrunching his eyes close and trying to regulate his breathing because of how much the peroxide stings. 

“I saw that news clip of Spider-Man and Hammerhead’s goon squad going at it, Parker,” Michelle says, sounding the same mix of concern and annoyance that she always sounded like when Peter tried to lie to her. 

Peter’s shoulders sag as she asks, “Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” Peter says, feeling dejected but swaying a little too much to think that he was actually capable of taking care of this himself as she walks in.

He misses the look on her face but he hears her mouth click, adjusting his body for her fingers to lightly brush just above the area of where the knife had cut.

“Shit. That looks deep,” she murmurs, Peter opening his eyes and seeing her eyebrows wrinkle in concern. “Surprised Tony’s not here to haul your ass to the Tower.”

“Turned off that alert,” Peter says with a laugh that turns into a wince as Michelle grabs some cotton and dabs more peroxide on the wound. “He won’t be happy when he finds out.”

“He’ll live,” Michelle deadpans, only to smile as she glances up at him. “Unlike you if you don’t stop trying to hide this shit.”

“I don’t,” Peter replies, Michelle just glaring at him as she continues to clean at the wound. “Not when it’s really bad, anyway.”

“And what do you call this?” 

“A flesh wound,” Peter banters back, Michelle smirking before her expression turns serious -- going quiet as she works to clean at the wound while Peter stares at her.

They’d been in this same position time and time again, a part of Peter wondering how much it had to grate on her even if she never expressed any other discontent about it save for seeing him hurt. 

If he was dating someone like Johnny, someone who understood what it was like to be stuck in superhero situations, maybe Peter wouldn’t feel as guilty as he does-- only for that thought to stop him right in his tracks as he jerks slightly.

“What? What’s wrong? Does this hurt?” Michelle asks, frowning as she freezes what she’s doing.

“No, I’m-- fine. Just cold,” Peter lies, Michelle searching his face for a moment before getting back to work on the stitches she was working on.

_ We’re not dating. We’re not dating. We’re not dating _ , Peter runs as a mantra in his head, stomach twisting into knots at how easily he was able to slip into that kind of thinking and knowing that it was dangerous.

They were going to pretend to be dating for Harry’s thing, sure but they weren’t  _ actually  _ dating-- Peter mentally forcing himself to stop thinking of Michelle as anything other than his very smart, very pretty, very generous roommate as she finishes up the last stitch.

“There, that should work,” Michelle says, washing her hands and putting the rest of the stuff away. She nods to him. “You should skip on a shower though for a few hours till the skin starts to close up. Why isn’t it healing?”

“I haven’t eaten,” Peter says with a laugh, Michelle pausing, slowly lifting her head up to glare at Peter.

“You were supposed to eat  _ before _ your date with Johnny, Pete. Come on. It’s like you  _ want _ to make things difficult for yourself.”

“I don’t, promise,” Peter says, slipping the rest of the suit off so he’s just in his boxers. “And Johnny flaked again.”

Michelle zips up the first aid kit, handing Peter a washcloth so he can at least wipe his face as she asks, “What happened this time?”

“SHIELD shit,” Peter says, running the water under the sink as Michelle leans against the door frame, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“So what’s next?” She asks as Peter finishes wiping his face, writhing out the wash cloth as he turns to her.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, only to wince, Michelle frowning as she says, “Here, lean on me.”

“MJ—“

“In the amount of time you’ll spend whining, you could be laying down by now,” she says, Peter biting his tongue because she knows she’s right and because he is feeling a little dizzy. It’s his own fault for not eating, especially since the last time he’d gotten hurt because of fucking up his healing, he had to listen to a lecture from Tony, from Bruce and then the big guns, May.

He should count it a blessing that Michelle is the one he’s living with, only to be confused when she walks him towards her bedroom.

“Why are we—“

“It’s closer and I don’t trust you not to sneak off in the middle of the night,” Michelle says as the two of them hobble along. “The couch is shit and your mattress is worse. Let’s skip the inevitable back pain with whatever else you got going on.”

Peter can’t really argue with that, especially since the times that they fool around on Michelle’s bed equal him having some of the best sleep of his life. Her mattress is expensive and new and leagues better than the piece of shit he bought at a flea market back in college, only offering the slightest sounds of displeasure as she helps him sit down.

“I didn’t get to shower,” he says, Michelle wrinkling her nose in that same cute way only to sigh as she shrugs.

“It’s fine. These sheets are cheap.”

Peter frowns, looking down at the set she has before turning back to Michelle. “Wait, this isn’t the same kind you always have?”

“The same kind  _ you  _ see, yes,” Michelle says with a smirk, slipping her phone out of her pocket. “You think I let you sleep on my  _ nice _ sheets?”

Peter makes an affronted sound, only to wince again as she glares up at him.

“Stop moving, you’ll mess with the stitches.”

“I’m not moving,” Peter says as he adjusts his position on the bed. 

“I mean it, Parker or I’m not sharing my chicken vindaloo with you.”

Peter perks up at that. “Can you get the—“

“Yes I already got the samosas.  _ And _ I’m gonna order from Freddy’s too, just so that you don’t pass out in the middle of the night. Cheap sheets or not, I’d rather  _ not _ have to drag you out to the medbay.”

Her tone is teasing but Peter can hear the concern in it all the same, smiling at her as he says, “Thanks, MJ.”

“No problem, loser,” Michelle says with a smile, glancing up at him from over the phone screen before turning her attention back to it. 

Peter feels something funny in his chest at that, a conflict of guilt and appreciation and something he doesn’t quite want to put a name to for the amount of care that she’s showing him. Peter knows Michelle isn’t one to extend herself for people unless she truly cares for them, though Peter’s never doubted that she does.

He loves her, he knows this— just as she clearly loves him. 

_ As friends _ , he tells himself, ignoring the pain in his side and the churning feeling in his gut as Michelle orders their food. 

“You good?” She asks, Peter looking up at her and seeing the smile fall as it’s replaced with concern.

“I’m good,” Peter says, his words feeling like a lie even if they shouldn’t. 

_ I’m good. We’re just friends.  _

_ Right? _


	5. I Don’t Wanna Lose This With You

Michelle hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep until she hears Peter’s phone starts to buzz. She shakes herself awake, looking around the mess that they’d left in her bed-- from food this time around, looking to her side to see Peter still snoring. 

It’d made more sense to keep him in her bed, because of the mattress and because his injury was still scarily close to looking just short of deadly. 

But it seems he’s survived the night, or the early evening when Michelle looks at the time and sees that it’s not even ten. Peter’s phone continues to buzz, reaching for it from the middle of the mess as Peter finally begins to stir.

“Who is it?”

“I don’t know,” Michelle asks, passing it without a glance as Peter takes it from her. His hands are still greasy and gross from the mix of food they’d been eating earlier but Michelle ignores it, just as she ignores the fact that Peter’s gonna be stinking up her bed for the night. 

She was right— there was no chance that he was going to have a good night’s sleep in his own bed. But Michelle was debating whether she was going to regret that decision when Peter’s eyes widen, choking on his food as she looks at him.

“What?”

“Uh,” Peter says unhelpfully, only to turn the phone so Michelle can see the screen.

Michelle squints at the text, pursing her lips together as she says, “Johnny wants to call you? What’s so bad about that?”

“Who _calls_ a date that you’ve had to cancel three times?” Peter starts to ramble. “What does it mean? Is he gonna break up with me before we even go out on a date?”

“I think he’d just ghost you,” Michele says nonchalantly, Peter frowning as she continues, “Isn’t that a _good_ thing that he wants to talk to you?”

“Yeah,” Peter says, sounding a little unconvinced until Michelle nudged his leg with her foot.

“Call him. Here,” she grabs the empty pizza box and lifts herself off the bed, “I’ll clean up and give you some privacy.”

“It’s _your_ room, MJ. And I can help—“ Peter goes to say, only to hiss in pain from the slash across his side that’s still taking a concerning amount of time to heal. 

Michelle chews the inside of her cheek, choosing to ignore it for now but making a mental note to harass Tony Stark tomorrow if it’s still not healed up as she says, “We’ll switch kitchen cleaning duties for a month and call it even.”

Michelle forces a smile, Peter looking almost terrified as she nods to the phone.

“Call flame boy and see what he wants.”

Michelle leaves her bedroom before Peter has the chance to argue, taking her time with throwing things away and getting the kitchen back in order.

It was, admittedly, a little weird that Johnny Storm wanted to talk to him if they hadn’t even made it to the first date. A _good_ weird, Michelle reasons - glad that even a hot shot celebrity superhero could recognize a good thing when he sees it and hadn’t given up on Peter Parker. 

Michelle didn’t make a habit of keeping up with celebrity, or superhero as it was, gossip but she knew enough of Johnny Storm’s public persona that he’d had a string of bad dates lately. If he and Peter finally got off their asses and figured out a date, Michelle knows they would hit it off. 

_It’s not like he doesn’t already flirt with Spider-Man any chance he gets_ , Michelle thinks to herself with a smirk as she rearranges the kitchen better and cleans up the mess that she left behind at the door from jumping straight to patching up Peter.

Peter always acted as if stitching him up was some kind of burden, the same way he looked at her then being the same way he looked at her when she got down on her knees. Michelle liked both, for similar reasons. 

The latter because there was a certain thrill in making a person who could lift a building off of themselves become almost powerless from her hands and her tongue but the former was something deeper-- personal and vulnerable in a way that Michelle didn’t want to admit to herself, much less to Peter.

Michelle liked being needed. She’d never had a lot of luck getting close to people when she was younger and as a result, pushed people away. Peter Parker and all his earnestness and infectious optimism was the kind of person she wanted to stick around, the kind of person that made _her_ feel like she was special and interesting and worthy.

It’s an old insecurity that was only exacerbated by her time with Harry, feeling like an outsider in more ways than one. The fact that her rebound, a sweet girl named Ella, hadn’t lasted because of Michelle’s inability to be open with her wasn’t lost on her - wondering to herself as she hangs up her coat if she’ll ever be able to be as vulnerable as she was with Harry.

 _You’re vulnerable with Peter_ , a quiet voice that suspiciously sounds like Ned whispers in the back of her mind, freezing before shaking that away. 

Ned was biased and had the bright idea to think that her and Peter were anything more than friends for the better half of nearly a decade. 

Sure, Peter was the person first thought of when she wanted to share things about her life both good and bad, but that’s because he was her best friend-- her _roommate_ . She finishes hanging her coat, turning away and looking over to the couch-- only for her mind to inexplicably bring up the memory of all the things they’d _done_ on that couch, a tingling in the back of her neck that she shivers away.

Yeah, okay-- Michelle knew that while it was normal for a best friend to know about your hookups, it _wasn’t_ normal for said best friend to _be_ the hookup. But it didn’t mean anything, it was physical-- the two of them talked too much about other people and setting each other up with different partners _while they were having sex_ for it to be anything other than that. 

The fact that Peter was probably the best partner she’s ever had in bed was besides the point, especially since it didn’t actually count as being a partner when they’d never actually dated. 

There’s a sinking feeling in her stomach then, less because of the assortment of food that they’d eaten or waking up so suddenly but more from the truth staring at her right in the face-- something that makes her question just how smart she could really be as she stays rooted in place.

She looks around their apartment, the truth hitting her in the gut that it’s _their_ apartment-- not her, Pete and Ned’s, not the apartment of two friends hanging out or casual roommates were separate lives. 

The furniture that they’d bought together and spaced out, the decor that was a mix of Michelle’s more eclectic sensibilities and Peter’s photography, the warmth and the coziness she feels in her own space with Peter being more than she ever felt throughout the almost four year long relationship she had with Harry or the several months she had with Ella. 

Harry had always mentioned moving in together but Michelle had declined, even Ella and any other hookup or fling that she’d bring home being wary of Peter and what he meant to her— seeing now almost for the first time that each time she explained, they had the same look in their eyes.

The same look that Ned had in all the years she’d lived with him. The same look that both Harry and Gwen had just this week. 

_Oh_.

Michelle sharply inhales, only to hear Peter let out a laugh in the bedroom -- _her_ bedroom, a panicky, sick feeling in her stomach at how monumentally stupid she has to be to have refused to acknowledge what was right in front of her years, something that Ned himself must’ve nearly given himself an ulcer from exasperation alone.

How could she have missed this? Michelle Jones, who prides herself on being observant and forthright and completely in tune with herself? Someone who believes herself to emotionally mature and can recognize the different moods and changes of the people around her by virtue of having been on the sidelines - intentionally so - for so long? 

Before Michelle gets the chance to truly reconcile with just how fucked over she is, Peter comes waddling in from her bedroom-- looking as pale as a sheet and his hand protectively covering his side. Michelle snaps out of it, frowning as she asks, “Peter, what are you--”

“MJ, you’re not gonna believe this,” Peter says, stabling himself against the wall with one hand and waving his phone in the other. “Johnny asked me out again. This Saturday.”

Michelle blinks. “Okay?”

“MJ, you’re not hearing me. He asked me out on Saturday. _This_ Saturday.”

The dots connect for Michelle, her mouth forming a little ‘oh’ as she says, “Oh the gala? Peter, don’t worry about that, I can figure out--”

“He invited me _to the gala_ ,” Peter says, sounding a little harried and stressed and far too pale-- from the cut to his side or from the panic written across his face, Michelle wasn’t sure. 

“Oh,” Michelle says, the sinking feeling in her gut growing as Peter rambles on.

“And I’m an idiot and told him that I couldn’t go because I was _already going_ which obviously led to a lot more questions than answers since _Peter Parker_ is supposed to be a nobody so why the hell am I attending an Oscorp gala and—“

“What happened?” Michelle asks, cutting Peter off not just to get to the point but because she’s still feeling from the frankly devastating revelation that she might actually be in love with him.

“I panicked and said I was going because of the _Bugle_ and he bought it, I think. He’s a little sketched out now that he knows I work at the _Bugle_ of all places,” Peter says with an exasperated sigh. “He said he’ll see me there but it didn’t sound good.”

Michelle tries and fails to push away her own freak out, if only because her ability to keep her thoughts to herself have been woefully misplaced this week— only for that to cause Peter to panic more as he looks at her and says, “You think it’s a lost cause too huh?”

“No,” Michelle says sharply, Peter’s eyebrows raising, “no, not at all. I think— I think we can pull this off. He knows you’re with the press now but if you were really gunning for a story, you wouldn’t have missed your last date right?”

“True,” Peter says warily, concern replacing panic as he looks at her up and down.

“And you’re _Spider-Man_ so it’s not like you’re gonna leak anything about him, even if he doesn’t know that,” Michelle rambles, Peter limping forward as she does.

“MJ, you okay?”

“Fine,” Michelle says in a tone of voice that’s entirely too high pitched and unsteady, putting a hand up instinctively. “Go back and lay down. You’ll bust open your stitches.”

Peter frowns, going to argue only for his phone to buzz in his hand— looking down at it and making a face before looking back to Michelle.

“Did you call Tony?”

 _No but I’ve never been more glad he’s retired and nosy as hell_ , Michelle thinks as the phone continues to buzz.

“No,” she says instead, “but you should answer that before he comes flying in here and breaks our window.” A beat. “Again.”

Peter sighs, wincing slightly before turning away from her and hobbling back to her room— answering the phone as Michelle takes a breath and tries to reconcile the total mind fuck she’s dealing with right now in three parts.

The first is that Peter’s agreed to pretend to be her fake boyfriend for her ex’s gala: not ideal but she can’t change that. It was her own fault to begin with. 

Second, Peter’s newest interest, someone Michelle has shamelessly tried to set them up will _also_ be at said gala: a weird first date if there ever was one and made doubly complicated because of Michelle’s lie.

And third, the final and most pressing problem: she’s in love with Peter Parker. Not just loves him, not just is roommate’s with him, not just best friends.

Michelle loves Peter. She’s _in_ love with him.

Michelle sighs, groaning as she puts her head in her hands.

 _Fuck_.


	6. This Love is Worth the Fight

“So what have you got planned for this weekend?”

Peter pauses mid-chew, glancing up to May who’s looking up at him curiously.

Peter chews slowly, swallows down both his food and slight trepidation as he says, “Nothing much. Why?”

May shrugs, Peter eyeing her carefully to wonder if she had somehow gotten wind of just what kind of a mess Peter’s gotten himself in. 

“We’re having that bake sale at FEAST, wondered if Spider-Man would be willing to make an appearance,” she says casually, taking a bite of the linguine she’d made for the two of them.

“Oh! Oh yeah, of course,” Peter says, the tension slowly leaving his shoulders as he says, “yeah, I can make it. What time?”

“It runs all day but probably be best to get there around three,” May says after finishing her bite, only to tilt her head as she looked at him up and down.

“What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” Peter says a little too quickly, inwardly wincing as he rambled forward. “Absolutely nothing. There’s so much  _ not  _ going on, it’s kind of embarrassing. I mean, you’d think I be glad that there was so much nothing but—“

“Peter,” May gently interjects, Peter freezing as he closes, opens, then closes his mouth again. “I’m gonna ask again. Is everything okay?”

Peter’s knee starts bobbing up and down, debating for a half-second before barreling forward— spilling the details of just how  _ busy _ his Saturday was going to be.

He told her about Michelle volunteering him to be her fake boyfriend, how he’d agreed even if it had led to some not quite resolved awkwardness with Harry, how he and Johnny Storm had been playing the first date equivalent of phone tag only to now be attending the same event, wondering now he was going to be able to balance Johnny, Harry, and the cyclone of lies that surrounded Saturday evening. 

May listens quietly, patiently— as she always has. Peter can tell from the furrow of her eyebrows that she’s deep in thought as he tells his story, Peter finally taking a deep breath and asking, “What do you think?”

“I think,” May begins, lightly tapping her fork against the plate, “that it’s a miracle it’s taking this long for you two to realize how you feel about each other.”

“Well, we— wait, what?” Peter stutters, confused for a moment and wondering if he’d somehow told the story wrong. Sure, he and Johnny flirted endlessly as their superhero counterparts but Johnny Storm and Peter Parker hadn’t spent any length of time together— hence the problem of this upcoming weekend. 

“Tony and I had a bet for when you’d finally figure it out,” May says simply, Peter completely baffled by how casual May is being discussing his social love life, much less having  _ bet _ on him and Johnny.

“You  _ bet _ on us?” Peter squawks, completely bewildered in a way he rationally knows he shouldn’t be as May smirks at him. 

“Sweetie, you can’t really be surprised can you? You two have been going back and forth for  _ years _ . Anytime I’d see the two of you two together, it reminded me of Ben and I,” May says warmly, Peter blinking at her in total confusion as he sets his fork down.

“You-- you do?”

“Of course,” May smiles, almost beaming at him as she says, “you know I’ve loved MJ for years. I know it was rough after she broke up with Harry and I’m sure she needed time but…”

May trails off, Peter still staring at her and feeling like a fish from opening and closing his mouth so much until she frowns and sits up straight.

“Peter? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Peter says in a high-pitched voice, clearing his throat again, “Yeah, um. Yeah, totally. Sure, just still trying to wrap my head around you and Tony actually  _ betting _ on us.”

May laughs, launching into a story of how the bet started but Peter’s stopped listening-- still reeling from the implication that May thought of him and Michelle as being similar to what she shared with Ben.

Peter didn’t really remember his parents, moving in with Ben and May when he was barely five years old. But he vividly remembered growing up in a home filled with love, Ben dancing with May in the kitchen and sneaking kisses any chance he had. He surprised her with daisies every single Friday and when money was tight - as it usually was - Ben still managed to bring something related to a daisy to her, be it a sketch of it on a napkin or some sticker. It was small and simple but it stuck out to Peter, the smallest of tokens that illustrated to Peter just how much Ben loved May that in his child-like mind had seemed larger than life.

Now as an adult, Peter could appreciate that Ben and May weren’t a perfect couple but still had a ton of love for each other-- love that he could only hope to find someday. Only to be completely thrown off-guard at the assumption that the friendship-- or relationship in May’s eyes -- was anything remotely similar. 

That and the fact that May had thought there was something between them— May  _ and  _ Tony at that— brought into question Peter’s dogged insistence that Michelle only thought of him as a friend.

Michelle was many things— smart, beautiful, passionate and determined. But she wasn’t free with her feelings or vulnerable to anyone except those that she trusted wholeheartedly, putting up walls to protect her that only the most determined climbed over. 

May and Tony had known her for years, in an entirely different capacity than Ned. If  _ they _ thought the two of them were together and actually believed that Michelle reciprocated her feelings, enough to place a  _ bet _ on the whole thing— it left Peter speechless in a way he was wholly unused to.

As May regaled him with the story of the bet, switching gears to tell him more about Saturday’s event at FEAST, Peter’s mouth went dry at the very real possibility that Saturday was going to be way more than he bargained for.

  
  


* * *

Peter’s nerves didn’t settle for days, staying out later to patrol to try and squash the uneasiness in his gut and hustling over to the  _ Bugle  _ even earlier, Jameson outright ordering him to take pictures at the Oscorp gala before Peter even had the chance to tell him he was already invited. 

The stress of an upcoming deadline, combined with everything  _ else  _ that was riding on Saturday night only further exacerbated the nervous feeling in his gut— distracted all throughout the FEAST bake sale and while swinging home. 

Peter wasn’t sure if it did or didn’t help that he hadn’t seen much of Michelle either in the days leading up to the gala. Peter couldn’t rightfully say he was  _ avoiding  _ her anymore than she was likely avoiding him, their schedules moving in flux with each other on a good week— much less with everything else going on.

Which is why Peter is surprised when he slips back into their apartment through the living room window to find Michelle on the couch, laptop open and a blank document on her screen that she looks away from when he steps in.

“Hey,” she says, Peter closing the window behind him as he rips his mask off.

“Hey,” he parrots back, Michelle eyeing him and up and down he follows her gaze.

“New suit?” She asks, sounding almost  _ awkward _ if Peter didn’t know any better. Peter shakes out his hair with his hand, noticing Michelle watching him do so as he says, “Nah. Old one. I gotta patch up the other next week, I just haven’t gotten around to going by SI yet.”

“Oh,” is all Michelle replies, Peter feeling inexplicably warmer even if the temperature outside has a nice chill to it. “It looks good.”

Peter raises an eyebrow to that, Michelle seemingly catching herself as she clarifies, “For being an old suit, I mean. It looks good. Still.”

“Thanks. I’ll uh, be sure to let Tony know you approve of his tech,” Peter says with a laugh, if only to try and ward away the awkwardness he feels. 

Michelle laughs at that, Peter feeling something in his chest loosen at the sound.

“Tell him I approve of the  _ suit _ , not his tech. I haven’t forgotten that story about that privacy nightmare of a surveillance program he told you about.”

“EDITH was never used,” Peter says casually, feeling themselves slip back into the friendship and the banter they’d cultivated for years rather than whatever residual awkwardness that was threatening to come between them. “It never actually got out into place.”

“Because he didn’t  _ die _ . You’re telling me you agree with military-grade surveillance drones being handed to a  _ sixteen-year-old _ ?” Michelle banters back, Peter laughing as he walks to the bathroom. 

Before he wouldn’t have given a second thought to stripping down to his boxers as soon as he made it back into the apartment but now Peter feels almost self-conscious, wondering if Michelle also noticed as he waved a hand around.

“I’m saying we never had to find out so it doesn’t matter,” Peter calls out, turning to face before walking backwards into the bathroom. “I’m gonna—“

“Yeah, yeah,” Michelle says with her own wave of her hand, turning her attention back to the laptop. Peter notices that she doesn’t begin typing, staring hard at the screen as if she was trying not to look at him— a theory only supported by the hammering of Michelle’s heart that Peter can hear from her.

It’s overwhelming to be around her now, Peter thinks as he starts the shower and strips off his suit— second-guessing every single interaction they’ve ever had and wondering now if Ned was right and he really was a total idiot. 

If he was or wasn’t, Peter didn’t really want to think about— dread, nerves and an unnamed feeling twisting around in his gut at just what they were going to be walking into as he runs through the myriad of problems before him. 

First, to pretend to be Michelle’s new boyfriend as a way of warding off her  _ ex _ -boyfriend— someone who wasn’t just her ex but was one of Peter’s best friends. A situation, Peter can’t help but dwell on over and over again, that Michelle had put them into in the first place. 

The second being Johnny, someone he’d thought was hot and funny and who Michelle herself had  _ repeatedly  _ tried to help him go out with. It doesn’t escape Peter that this might not have been just the tactic of a good friend but rather a classic Michelle Jones redirect, wondering if he’d really just been too much of an idiot to see that she possibly liked him back for just  _ how  _ fervent she was in setting him up with people. 

The third went hand in hand with the Johnny situation, someone who was now a little suspicious of him now that Peter admitted that he worked at the  _ Bugle _ , compounded by the fact that because of Jameson’s idiosyncrasies— he  _ actually  _ had to work at the Oscorp event. 

The fourth and final problem, one that Peter can’t help but think isn’t really a problem at all: Michelle might like him back, as juvenile as it sounds. Peter hadn’t dared to hope that Michelle returned his previously assumed unrequited feelings, only for the realization to hit him as the water pours over his face and his back that  _ liking  _ each other didn’t even cover it. 

He thought of all the times they’d do their laundry together, folding each other’s clothes the way the other liked— Michelle with purpose and Peter without. He thought of the way Michelle would eat her pizza by eating all the toppings first, Peter intentionally giving her the pieces with the most toppings cause she liked picking those off first before she actually ate the slice. He thought of all the times she’d ever patched him up, her only complaint being that he got hurt in the first place— a tenderness that Peter could now see clearly in hindsight wasn’t just love from a friend.

Peter knew he loved Michelle and anytime he was around her, was sure that he was more than a little  _ in _ love with her. 

It hits him square in the chest, bracing a hand against the tile as the water continues to run over him.

Peter loved Michelle. He was  _ in _ love with her.

And for the first time, Peter swearing under his breath as he swiped a hand over his face, Peter wondered if Michelle was in love with him too. 


	7. It’s All Me, Just Don’t Go

Michelle’s veins feel like pure adrenaline is running through them as she hears the shower go, fingers lightly tapping against her laptop and staring at the same blinking cursor that she has been for the better half of thirty minutes.

She’d sat down to try and get some writing done for a paper due next week only to get sidetracked, mind still running a thousand miles a minute as she played through what tonight would end up being like. 

It was objectively a messed situation made worse by her inconvenient revelation that she was in love with Peter. A truth that she hadn’t shared with anyone else but hadn’t left her thoughts for days on end— exacerbated by the distinct feeling she got from Peter that he was avoiding her. 

Michelle dismissed that as ridiculous but the proof was in the air now— Peter was acting _weird_ as he walked to the bathroom and looked skittish in a way that she hadn’t seen since they were hormonal teenagers, surviving in a world that was so unlike the one they were used to. 

That thought strikes her, Michelle vaguely hearing the water shut off as she stares at the laptop screen— _why_ Peter’s avoidance of her this week had seemed so painfully familiar.

It was _just_ like they were in high school again, seniors and stressed about impending alien invasions and a world where half of them had been blipped out of existence. 

It nudges at her quietly, a whisper just creeping at the back of her mind when the bathroom door opens— glancing up to see Peter in nothing but a towel, hair wet and a sheepish smile on his face as he walks over to his bedroom.

“Forgot my clothes.”

“Okay,” Michelle says, Peter giving her an awkward wave before he turns to his room. 

_Does he like me?_ Michelle thinks, only to banish the childish thought. Of course he LIKES her, what is she— twelve? Peter Parker was the worst secret keeper she’s ever met, something particularly concerning considering the actual superhero secret identity he had going on.

She knew Peter liked her— _loved_ her— for all the times he’s said and showed it, being willing to listen and learn when they would talk about his usual method of webbing up criminals and leaving them for the cops. She knew that he thought of her and of what she needed throughout the day, taking the steps to show her by cleaning the kitchen, getting her clothes from the laundry mat, or getting down on his knees. 

She knew that Peter loved fast and loved hard— a spark in her chest at thinking of all the short-lived but passionate romantic entanglements he’s ever had, how he looked when he talked about them and how nervous he got when he came to grips with his feelings about someone.

It’s the same kind of nervous he’s acting right now, the same kind of avoidance tactics that he’d always play— only now for _Michelle_ to be the focus of them, something that churns up her insides for what that could mean. 

Michelle can’t take it anymore, closing her laptop and setting it aside before she launches herself off the couch— Peter turning to her in surprise just as he’s about to close the door.

“What’s up?”

“You’re being weird,” Michelle says, knowing full well that she’s one to talk, considering her not so subtle avoidance of him this week. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nope, I’m— I’m fine,” Peter says unconvincingly, the hand wrapped around his towel tightening. “You?”

“Fine,” Michelle says, heartbeat still hammering in her ears as she stares him down. 

“You sure?” He asks, Michelle noticing how his hair is still damp and stuck to his forehead as she frowns.

“Yes? Why?” She asks, Peter laughing before using the hand not currently holding up an entirely too small towel to scratch the back of his neck— Michelle thinking if she didn’t know any better that he was almost flexing.

“No offense, MJ, but _you’re_ acting kind of weird.”

“I’m not,” Michelle says, forcing herself to keep staring at his eyes and not at his bare chest— feeling a heat pool in her belly, residual effect from the hot shower he’d just taken, she reasons. “Just making sure you’ll be okay for tonight.”

Peter’s smile falls, Michelle not _not_ noticing how tense his shoulders get as he lowers his other hand down.

“Yeah, I’m uh— well, I’m not gonna lie. I’m a little nervous,” Peter says honestly, Michelle feeling the tension between them loosen slightly.

“Me too,” she admits, in a voice quieter than she intended but seems to have a noticeable effect on Peter. His eyes dart to her lips than back to her eyes, Michelle’s throat feeling dry as she says, “Do you think we can pull it off?”

“Yeah. Yep, I think uh, I think we’ll do our best,” Peter says, sounding breathless as Michelle takes a tentative step forward. “Didn’t think _you’d_ be nervous though.”

“Why?” She asks, Peter holding her gaze as he straightens up.

“You don’t _get_ nervous. Not for shit like this,” he says, Michelle feeling like the temperature has skyrocketed as he leans a little closer to her— his body heat emanating from him.

It’s like a magnet, pulling her closer to him as she takes another step forward and says, “Good to know I can still surprise you.”

Peter smirks, but his eyes take a familiar look to them— Michelle’s stomach doing a little flip as he leans forward and says, “You always surprise me.”

Michelle doesn’t think, just acts on instinct— closing the distance between them. Peter responds immediately, hand dropping from his towel and wrapping his arms around her and his tongue slipping into her mouth as she breathes him in.

“What are we doing?” She asks against his lips, only to gasp as she feels Peter against her— keenly aware that he’s naked as his hands brush up against and under the flimsy t-shirt she has on, fingers tracing circles alongside her ribcage.

“Stress relief,” he murmurs against her neck, Michelle’s laugh turning to a moan as he sucks right at the sensitive spot on her neck that drives her crazy, hands traveling up and down the length of her before he moves to pull her shirt off.

Michelle does it for him, kissing him as soon as she can before walking him backwards to the bed— Peter willingly letting himself be led to it until he sits down, naked and already half-hard as she moves to slip her shorts off. 

They stare at each other for a beat, the separation giving them a moment’s pause now that they’re both naked— Michelle inexplicably feeling self-conscious even if she absolutely shouldn’t. 

She’d seen Peter naked countless times over the years, intimate and in the most non-sexually exciting way possible from the amount of times they’ve hooked up and she’s helped patch him up over the years. But there’s something different between them today, something Michelle isn’t even sure is real or she’s just making up in her head as she holds his gaze.

Peter’s eyes shift from hers to travel slowly down the length of her body, Michelle feeling the tension between them ratchet up and a heat building from the inside out as he finally looks back to her eyes and whispers, “You’re really pretty.”

“And therefore I have value?” Michelle teases, tentatively taking a step forward as Peter grins— the tension between them simultaneously lifting and becoming electrified as he scoots back on the bed, Michelle going to straddle him before pausing- moving to grab a condom instead first.

“You really think I’m that shallow?” Peter asks with a laugh, Michelle flicking the condom over to him as he catches it with ease. She moves back to hover over him, relishing in the feel of him naked and hard underneath her as she slowly grinds down and kisses him.

Peter makes a soft, choked sound as she does, hands ghosting all over before lifting his hips— the two of them kissing, and touching and reaching for each other in a way that’s both too desperate for how often they do this and so slow it drives Michelle crazy. 

Peter flips the two of them such practiced ease that it almost makes her dizzy, feeling him harden against her as he hovers over her. 

“I’ve seen who you hang around with. You’re only ever around pretty people,” Michelle finally replies, Peter laughing before he kisses her again— filthy, his hands sliding down the length of her. Michelle gasps into his mouth as his fingers move exactly where she wants him.

“I know what you are but what am I?” Peter jokes, Michelle’s laughter cut off when his fingers slowly start working her over with more fervor as he kisses her hard on the mouth before trailing downwards.

It’s so easy to get lost in the feel of his tongue in her mouth and then inside her rather than to think of what they’re doing, of how wrong it is to lead Peter on— now knowing what she does of what she feels about him.

“Peter,” Michelle says, as she clutches at his hair. Peter hums as his tongue continues to work, kneading at her hips with his thumb before Michelle tightens her grip in his hair to pull him off of her. 

He looks back up at her expectantly, Michelle laughing as she says, “We have to leave in like an hour. I still need to get ready.”

“I’ll be quick,” Peter says with a wink, going to move down before adjusts her hold on him, moving her hand to cradle his face.

“I want to feel you,” she says, Peter shuddering as he does what she asks, grabbing around for the condom, ripping it open and sliding it on before positioning himself at her entrance. Michelle’s already ready and wanting, the two of them sighing in pleasure when he easily pushes in.

“ _Fuck_ MJ,” Peter pants, lowering his forehead to hers as Michelle exhales, the slow push and pull of Peter’s hips falling into a rhythm that’s familiar— wrapping her arms around his back, his neck, before pressing a hand back to the wall behind them. 

“That’s it,” Michelle says with a gasp as Peter pushes in hard and pulls out slow, angling himself by moving one hand to her hip and another up to where her hand is— Michele bringing it down from the wall as Peter interlocks his fingers with hers.

Michelle opens her eyes to see Peter staring at her like he never has before, Michelle panting as she rocks her hips with him— only to close them once more and throw her head back as his hand pushes into hers, bracing his body weight better to thrust into her.

“ _Peter_ ,” Michelle whines, hearing Peter’s breathing start to get haggard as their bodies slickly move together, close enough already form the work of Peter’s tongue— a heat building in the pit of her stomach that Peter himself was so close and having been so turned on by getting her off.

“Em— you’re— you’re perfect. So—fucking perfect. So— _fuck_ ,” Peter gasps, tightening her grip on her hip just on the right side of painful as his hips pulses into her— hard and fast just like she likes it as her free hand grabs at his waist. 

Michelle loses sense of time, the only thing that consume her being the feel of Peter’s breath against her neck, his hands shifting to move all over her and his body lithely working at her with such precision that it makes her breath catch, taken by surprise when he pushes her over the edge. 

She’s still reeling from the waves of her own pleasure when Peter’s tempo increases before coming to a shuddering stop, gasping her name into her neck as he lets his body weight rest gently on her as their chests heave together. 

Michelle’s out of breath when Peter finally lifts his head up and stares into her eyes, feeling something shift in the air between them even now _after_ they’ve had sex— the sinking feeling in her gut from before that she’d attributed to residual horniness still making itself known.

She knows they both have to get ready for the gala, just as she knows that they have to put forth all their effort into playing several roles tonight if they were going to pull it off.

But as Peter stares into her eyes, a tender expression in them that twists her stomach into knots for what it could mean, Michelle starts to wonder if they really are going to be pretending all that much to begin with. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you saw me add more chapters, no you didn’t ❤️ 
> 
> Should be the final count now. Maybe. Don’t look at me.


	8. Tell Me That I’m All You Want

Peter knows he fucked up by fucking Michelle merely hours before they had to pretend to be dating-- a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach at how little it felt like _fucking_.

There’d been something different in her eyes when she looked up at him, something Peter hadn’t dared to believe might ever be possible but then saw it— pulling at the tie he has on at the memory of how she looked up at him.

It was a look that was so vulnerable, less because he was inside her but because of what he hoped he was actually seeing-- the idea that Michelle might love him not just as a friend but might be _in_ love with him. 

Peter had pulled out, disposing of the condom and helped her up without saying a word— Michelle giving some excuse of taking a quick shower and getting ready as Peter nodded. He should’ve said something then, before they got ready-- of what he felt, how he’s always felt, to take the leap and wonder if she might feel the same way too.

But he hadn’t, letting her leave his room to get ready as he paced around his room and wondered if he would have enough time to shower for the second time. 

Now, an hour at the gala and with Michelle standing stiffly by his side, Peter can’t help but wonder if he’s messed this thing up before it even began— chewing at the inside of his cheek as he downs another glass of champagne.

“That’s your fourth glass,” Michelle says quietly, Peter glancing at her as he brings the empty flute down. “Might wanna slow it down.”

“You know it doesn’t affect me,” Peter replies with a slight tinge of nervousness, a feeling that doesn’t make sense considering how many events they’d been to together— when she was dating Harry and Peter didn’t realize he was in love with her. 

“ _I_ know that but _they_ don’t know that,” Michelle points out, subtly nodding over to a couple that looks vaguely familiar looking at Peter in earnest— remembering with a wince that he isn’t just here as Michelle’s date or Harry’s friend, but as a photographer for the _Bugle_. 

“Good save,” Peter says, inwardly kicking himself for being so awkward as Michelle offers him a quick smile before taking a sip of her own drink.

He can tell she’s nervous by virtue of having been her friend for so long, Michelle Jones’ nervous fics showing up in being hypercritical, quiet and keenly observant of her surroundings. 

“You okay?” Peter asks belatedly, knowing damn well that if she feels even an ounce how nervous he does that she wouldn’t be.

“Fine,” Michelle says with a nod, only for her smile to grow more genuine when she looks over her shoulder— Peter following her gaze to see Ned and Gwen walking up to the two of them as a waiter takes their empty glasses. 

“Hey guys,” Gwen says with a smile, Peter barely catching the twitch of something flashing across Michelle’s face as Gwen brings her into a hug. “How’s everything going?”

“Good,” Peter answers as they hug, turning to Ned in surprise as they greet each other with the same handshake they have since they were thirteen, “I didn’t know you were coming, man.”

“Oh yeah, wouldn’t miss it,” Ned says with a grin as he leans back, sharing a side glance with Gwen. “Heard there were a lot of things going on tonight and you know Gwenny and I hate to miss a good party.”

“Sure you do,” Michelle deadpans, Gwen smiling sweetly at the two of them before saying, “It’s true, I hardly get to see anyone these days. I’ve been swamped with work lately and it doesn’t help that Mr. Osborn’s been a little…”

“Hard to reach?” Another voice cuts in, Peter feeling Michelle tense beside him in surprise as Harry walks up to them— sandwiched between Peter and Ned as Gwen’s cheeks turn pink.

“Sorry, Har. I know he’s your dad but—“

“It’s fine,” Harry says with a wave before ruffling a hand through his hair, “dear old dad’s been a little out of it lately. All this talk about legacy and whatever.”

Harry brings a hand down, Peter noticing the tension in his eyes as he nods to Gwen. “Don’t worry about it, Gwenny.”

Gwen demures, Harry turning his attention to Peter and Michelle with a smile that Peter expects to be fake but is surprisingly genuine as he says, “It’s good to see you, man.”

“Yeah,” Peter says as Harry pulls him into a hug, “you too.”

“And you too, MJ,” Harry says as soon as Peter leans back, Michelle’s expression neutral as she nods and says, “Yeah. Thanks again for the invite.”

It’s obvious to anyone with eyes that Michelle is feeling awkward and like she’s on the spot, or maybe—Peter thinks— he just knows her that well as he goes to try and cover the situation when Harry beats him to the punch.

“Can’t say I’m totally surprised about you two,” Harry says, Gwen and Ned sharing glances with each other out of the corner of Peter’s eyes. 

“I always thought…” Harry begins before trailing off, glancing at Michelle for a moment before he shakes it away, “It doesn’t matter. Past is in the past and if you two are happy together then that’s all that matters.”

“We are,” Peter says, surprising himself with how forthright and steady his voice is as he continues, “But it’s still nice to hear it from you.”

“Sorry. For not telling you sooner,” Michelle says as she moves closer to Peter, Peter moving a hand to slowly wrap around her waist and seeing that it’s a good move from how she relaxes next to him. “It— it was just so new and—“

“It’s really fine, you guys,” Harry says, Peter looking for the lie in his eyes and finding none. “I mean yeah, it took me a little off guard but I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. You _live_ together, it’s— I’m kinda surprised it took this long.”

“You can say that again,” Ned mutters, only for Gwen to not so subtly poke him at his side. Peter goes to say something in return only for his stomach to drop when he hears another familiar voice ring out, “You’re dating someone?”

Peter freezes, back straightening before turning over his shoulder and seeing none other than Johnny Storm— looking fine as hell in a perfectly tailored blue suit that contrasted perfectly with his brown skin and his curly black hair dyed blonde at the tips. 

Peter’s mouth goes dry, feeling Michelle straighten up and shift to move away from him only for Peter to tighten his grip on her waist— making a split-second decision as he says, “Yeah. I uh, I am.”

“Oh,” Johnny says, looking confused and a little hurt— Gwen cutting it at the perfect time as she tries to pull Harry away.

“You know Johnny?” Harry asks, Peter’s mind going blank and setting off alarm bells since Harry, despite being one of his best friends, was the only one of his circle who _didn’t_ know the truth of what he got up to most nights.

“We should go,” Gwen quickly says, successfully pulling Harry away as Michelle nudges at Peter side— looking at him with an expression that Peter knows well.

 _What the hell are you doing?_ She says with her eyes, Peter solidifying his decision as he brings his hand down from her waist, gently squeezing her hand before turning to Johnny.

“Can we… can we talk?” He asks, knowing that it would be well within Johnny’s right to tell him to fuck off but hoping he’ll hear him out anyway. 

Johnny’s eyes shift between the two of them, squinting slightly before nodding once in the direction of the balcony.

“Be right there,” Peter says, Johnny turning away as he looks back to Michelle.

“What the hell are you doing?” Michelle whispers, her tone harsh even if her eyes are searching his— something just brimming under the surface that makes Peter heart jump in his chest, smiling back at her as he says, “Something I should’ve done a long time ago.”

He moves to gently cradle her face in his hands, eyes asking for permission before Michelle sharply inhales— only to meet him halfway when Peter kisses her, the world feeling like it’s melting away.

He realizes then that he could spend forever in that moment, holding her close and kissing her like she’s the only person to ever exist in his world.

But Peter has one more loose end to tie up, regretfully pulling away from her as he looks back into her eyes.

“Be right back,” Peter whispers before taking a step backward, his lips still tingling and his heartbeat racing as he walks to where Johnny is— hoping he hadn’t burned a bridge, in more ways than one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is officially finished and ended at ten chapters!! We’re in the endgame now. 
> 
> T dont interact.


	9. Tell Me We'll Be Just Fine

_ What the fuck? _

Michelle is still reeling from Peter having kissed her, much less from going to tell Johnny… Michelle didn’t know exactly.

Or maybe she did, just as she knew that having sex with him this afternoon meant something more than just “stress relief” — something that twists her gut in a good way as she takes a deep breath.

Only to exhale and turn to see Harry staring at her curiously, Michelle forcing a smile before she turns in a different direction— desperate to avoid another interaction that would only further embarrass her. 

Another waiter passes by with a drink, one that Michelle happily takes and downs half of when she hears a familiar voice say, “Trouble in paradise already?”

Michelle swallows down her drink, playfully rolling her eyes as she turns to none other than Tony Stark smirking at her. 

“If there was, I wouldn’t tell you about it,” Michelle cooly deflects, hoping he’ll see past it.

Being semi-friends with a billionaire, much less of the Tony Stark variety, hadn’t ever been something Michelle would’ve expected in high school. Despite her misgivings about the existence of billionaires and the total cultural memory loss when it came to him being just one step away from a war criminal for the majority of his adult life, Michelle liked Tony well enough. He kept Peter alive when he was at his most stupid, ensuring that he had the right tech and actually taking a step back as they got older-- though how much of that had to do with trust in Peter’s abilities and Pepper Potts putting her foot down when it came to his retirement, Michelle didn’t know.

What she did know is that Tony was the familiar face that she needed right now, not drunk enough to feel comfortable enough around strangers but desperately wishing her friends hadn’t seen what had happened between her and Peter-- not when she’s still trying to figure out just what exactly it means.

_ You know what it means _ , a voice that suspiciously sounded like Ned whispered in the back of her mind as Tony laughs, Michelle turning to him as he says, “Fair enough. Pep says I need to work on maintaining boundaries.”

“How’s that working out for you?” 

“Surveillance drones are running smoothly so, pretty good actually,” Tony jokes, Michelle laughing despite herself and feeling a little more at ease as she glances around the room. No one’s looking in their direction, the little scene between her and Peter being significant only to the two of them-- only to lock eyes with Tony and immediately recognize that they  _ hadn’t _ actually gone completely unseen. 

“You sure nothing’s on your mind?” Tony asks gently, not quite probing but said with a level of care that Michelle knows by now to be true of him. 

“Nothing you can fix,” Michelle says, a little more sad than she intended as Tony shrugs, folding his arms.

“Try me,” he says gamely, eyes drifting over to the balcony that Peter had walked off to before turning his attention back to her, “seems like we have some time before the flame idiot lets him off.”

Michelle smirks, glancing back over to the open balcony. “Yeah, I don’t know how he’s gonna get out of that one.”

“Seems easy to me,” Tony says, Michelle looking back over to him as he continues, “We both know who he really wants to be with tonight.”

Michelle doesn’t insult her own intelligence by playing dumb, especially from the look in Tony’s eyes which tells her that he wouldn’t believe her anyway if she tried. 

“Is it really that obvious?” she asks, Tony unfurling his arms and laughing. 

“Since he was a punk seventeen year old kid. May and I had a bet going on actually, to see when you two would finally get it together.”

“That’s…” Michelle trails off, realizing that anything she says to insult Tony would inadvertently insult May-- something that Tony catches on with a gleam in his eye.

“Just the right amount of concern and attention for an obscenely rich benefactor and a loving aunt?” Tony says with a wink, Michelle laughing again as she sighs.

“I guess we both have been a little stupid about this huh?” 

“All’s fair in love and war,” Tony says, grabbing an appetizer from a server as he passes by. “Though I’d say the only thing you two have been fighting is your own feelings.”

Michelle doesn’t like being called out, much less on her feelings, much  _ less _ by Tony Stark-- going to counter when Tony shoves an appetizer in his mouth, putting a finger up and excusing himself.

“Excuse me, gonna go mingle with the rest of the one percent. Gotta figure out who to throw in front of me to be eaten first when the revolution comes,” he says with a garbled mouth, Michelle letting out a sharp laugh as Tony makes his getaway.

Michelle shakes her head, wondering if Morgan had been the one who gave him that particularly terminology or if he’d been scouring the internet for memes again when she sees Gwen and Ned out of the corner of her eye, seeing that they’re both going to try and make a beeline for her as Michelle tries to get lost in the crowd only to fail.

She takes a deep breath when they both finally walk up, twin expressions of glee on their faces as Ned says, “So?”

“So…?"

“Don’t be cute with us, MJ,” Gwen says excitedly, “So are you guys… together?” 

“Are we in high school? Gwen, come on,” Michelle says dismissively as she rolls her eyes, Ned glaring at her.

“Might as well be for how you two have been acting for years. Literal  _ years _ , MJ. It’s about damn time that something finally happened between the two of you.”

“Nothing happened,” Michelle says even if she doesn’t believe it, not wanting to relay her feelings to anyone but Peter at the moment, “He was just making it good for Harry.”

Gwen scoffs, Ned squinting at her like he was going to argue-- something that Michelle knows  _ now _ that he’s well within his right to considering the bullshit he’s had to see for years, only for both of them to pause-- Michelle following their gaze and looking over her shoulder.

She sees Johnny Storm walking up to her, his smile bright and looking devastatingly handsome as he comes up to the three of them. Michelle’s always liked Johnny in the abstract-- a Black superhero that could literally light up the night sky-- but seeing him in person, knowing that she’s done her damndest to get him to go out with Peter, causes her stomach to do a flip as he smiles at her.

“MJ right?”

Michelle smiles, nodding as Johnny points back to the balcony.

“Peter uh, he wanted me to ask if you’d meet him outside. Things get a little stuffy in here, you know how it goes,” Johnny says with a wink, Michelle feeling a little star struck and hating herself for it as he smiles.

“Thanks,” Michelle says, Johnny nodding to her once more before turning his attention to Gwen and Ned-- each of them looking just as enamored with Johnny as Michelle had felt as he says, “Peter tells me that you two are Human Torch fans.”

Gwen lets out an excited squeal, Michelle taking that as her cue to follow after where Peter is-- the thought occurring to her that Peter must’ve done this on purpose, sending Johnny to run interference and giving her the chance to leave and talk with him. 

She slips away, heart rate pounding a thousand miles a minute as she gets closer and closer to the balcony-- a chill in the air running down her spine as she steps outside and sees Peter looking out over the city before he turns to stare at her.

“Hey,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest and rubbing her hands up and down to warm herself up, Peter immediately moving to take off his jacket.

“You don’t have to--”

“It’s fine,” Peter says as he holds it over her, Michelle allowing him to lay it over her shoulders, “I’m not cold.”

“You’re not?” Michelle asks with a laugh, feeling a little breathless and also a little overwhelmed from the jacket around her-- the scent and warmth of  _ him _ intoxicating more than the alcohol she’s drank tonight.

Peter’s eyes are boring into hers, Michelle belatedly realizing that his hands are still encloses around the labels of the jacket as they draw themselves closer to each other.

“No,” Peter answers quietly, a hopeful expression on his face. 

“Guess not, what with a walking fire hazard out here with you,” Michelle tries to joke, Peter smiling at her as she asks, “what’d you tell him?”

Peter licks his lips, Michelle’s eyes dancing down to them before looking back up at his eyes again as he says, “The truth.”

“What’s that?” Michelle asks, her mouth feeling dry as Peter somehow steps even closer. 

“That I’m an idiot,” Peter says with a smile, finger lightly tracing up and down the lapel of the jacket-- Michelle instinctively thinking of what Peter’s fingers did that afternoon in a way that stokes the heat in her gut as he continues, “That I shouldn’t have lead him on. That I’m sorry… cause I’m in love with someone else.”

Michelle inhales sharply, the words that she hadn’t dared to think real echoing between them and made more real now that Peter said them. Yet it feels right, in a way that makes Michelle feel as if everything was finally clicking into place as she holds his gaze.

“I love you,” Peter says with a smile that somehow grows brighter, “And I know we say it all the time. I know you love me but I’m-- I’m  _ in _ love with you, MJ. And if you-- if you feel--”

Michelle cuts him off by moving forward, pressing her lips against his in a kiss that takes Peter by surprise-- something that it shouldn’t considering his spider powers but that he melts into in anyway. Any tentativeness is gone now, Peter’s hands moving to wrap around her waist as Michelle does the same, hooking her arms over his neck and pulling him closer as she breathes deeply into the kiss.

Her heartbeat is pounding in her ears, Peter letting out a soft moan when she slips her tongue into his mouth-- only to pause when she places a hand against his chest.

“What’s-- what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” Michelle says with a laugh, breathless and all warmed up now as she smiles at him, “I just— is this really happening?”

“I fucking hope so,” Peter says with a laugh, his thumb running up and down her back as he pulls her closer. “If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up.”

“You’re so cheesy,” Michelle says with a laugh.

"You love me," Peter jokes, Michelle smiling as she says, "I do."

Peter beams, Michelle wrapping her fingers around his neck and pulling him closer to her as she whispers against his mouth, “I love you.”

Peter presses his lips against her, holding her tight as the kiss deepens. Michelle thinks she could spend forever right here in this moment with Peter, any hint of being cold long gone as their lips and bodies intertwine. 

When they finally come up for air, Michelle leans her forehead against his, panting slightly when she asks, “Think they believed us?”

Peter leans his head back and laughs, kissing her sweetly before pulling her even closer as he says, “Yeah, I think they did.”

“Then let’s go home,” Michelle says, staring at him with a look of certainty-- a feeling deep in her gut that causes the heat billowing out to feel like pure electricity is running through her veins as Peter leans forward, kissing her again before leaning his forehead against hers.

“Yeah,” Peter says with a laugh that sends a shiver down her spine, “let’s go home.” 


	10. Meet Me in the Afterglow

Peter wonders how he ever was able to think clearly around Michelle, how he was  _ ever _ able to keep his hands to himself as the hum of the subway rolls around-- taking every ounce of his self-control not to duck into an alleyway and act like horny teenagers. 

As soon as they make it back to the apartment, it’s like a match has been set off— Peter’s hands sliding up and down the length of her dress before he frantically works the zipper down. Michelle’s just as proactive, moving his jacket off and then his shirt until the two of them are against the wall.

“Eager,” Michelle says into his mouth as her dress slides off her shoulder, Peter panting as she palms him through his dress pants.

“Can you blame me? You’re incredible,” Peter says against her neck before moving down to her chest, feeling himself harden as he licks and sucks at all the right places as his hands move down under her dress.

Peter groans when his fingers brush against her, realizing that she’s clearly ready this already as he pulls down the lace fabric and she works off the buttons of his dress pants. 

“ _ Condom _ ,” Michelle says, Peter moving back towards their kitchen to the stash they kept in one of their drawers— wondering how either of them could possibly have thought that there was nothing more between them for how much and how often they had sex.

But there’s something different now, even more than what it has been this afternoon— pants sliding down as he rips open the package. Michelle is still leaning against the wall as he slips the condom on, pumping his hand up and down his length a few times as he moves closer to her.

“You sure you don’t want to go to my bed?”

“Your bed sucks and my bed’s too far,” she says, Peter laughing only to be cut off when she takes him in hand— Peter effortlessly lifting up her legs as she hooks them around his waist.

He holds her gaze as she steadies him at her entrance, only to close his eyes and gasp when he enters her— tight and hot and completely perfect as his fingers dig into her thighs.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” he pants into her neck, channeling every ounce of his self-control so that she can better adjust to him until her hips wiggle— grasping at his shoulders as he starts to pulse into her.

“I love you,” Peter says into her neck, into her hair, Michelle’s pants goading him on as he continues to thrust his hips, “I love you so fucking much.”

“I—  _ uh _ — I love you too. Gwen’s— Gwen’s gonna be so smug,” Michelle replies, Peter laughing as he rolls his hips, Michelle bringing a hand down between them to where their thighs meet.

“Ned too,” Peter moans, his focus stuttering as Michelle clenches around him— feeling her start to work herself over as he increases his pace.

“Look at me,” she pants out, Peter doing what she asks as he lifts his head up, rolling his hips and losing any sense of control as he works her harder, faster, the pictures on their wall starting to rattle as he kisses her.

The kiss turns more into panting each other’s mouth, the hand that wasn’t working herself into a frenzy tightly ensnarled in Peter’s hair, Michelle’s moan when he hit an angle just right threatening to overwhelm him.

He can’t believe it’s taken them this long, just as he can’t believe he never realized how she felt about him— only for any thought but the smell and taste and feel of Michelle all around him to fall away as their bodies moved together. 

It didn’t matter how long it took, just that they were here—  _ finally _ — together. 

As Peter moved his hips in a chase to the finish, capturing her lips into a kiss as he angled himself better so that she could get there first, all he could think of was how lucky he was— a luck that he hopes would never run out. 

* * *

There were a lot of things that he loved about being Spider-Man, but of the things he hated about it— it was always having to leave.

It was always in the important moments, always at the most inconvenient time. They’d barely come down from each of their highs, Peter still inside her and holding Michelle up by her hips when his phone started going off.

“Go get em, tiger,” Michelle had joked as Peter growled in frustration, kissing her hard while simultaneously letting her down gently— hating that he was quite literally going to fuck and run.

But Michelle didn’t seem bothered by it, not as far as he could tell— any apology or explanation that he had falling away as she told him to go.

Peter did— some bullshit with Rhino that made him think the universe was truly out to get him— coming back hours later than he intended, slipping back into the quiet apartment. 

Peter strips himself off the suit, glancing around the quiet and the dark and making a beeline straight for the shower— hurrying to get the stench of the city off of him before he turned the water off and grabbed a towel, eager to see if Michelle was still up and waiting for him.

He isn’t surprised in the least that she’s fast asleep, holding back a laugh as he quickly dries his hair and the rest of him before throwing the towel in her hamper— quietly walking to the side of her bed.

She doesn’t stir, though she’d clearly had the thought of waiting for him since she was sleeping on  _ her  _ side of the bed. It makes Peter laugh, that he knew this about her and ever fooled himself to believe that Michelle didn’t love him back as he quietly slips into bed next to her.

Michelle finally moves at that, Peter smiling as she blearily blinks an eye open and whispers, “Hey.”

“Hey, go back to sleep,” Peter says quietly, laughing to himself again when that just wakes her up a little more. She raises an eyebrow at him, only to close her eye and snuggle more into her pillow as she says, “You’re the one who woke me up.”

“Sorry,” Peter says, leaning forward to kiss her gently on the cheek before kissing sweetly on the lips, Michelle humming as Peter leans back and stares at her— her eyes still closed as he draws small circles across her bare back.

“I’ll forgive you this time,” she says sleepily, Peter biting his tongue as he huffs out a quiet laugh.

“Very generous of you,” Peter replies, Michelle’s only answer in return being her soft breathing— Peter smiling to himself as he stares at her in awe.

Peter’s known he’s been in love with her for years— thinking back to every little signal or sign that he missed about her feelings for him, how he ever had been stupid enough to completely miss the chance of not telling her how felt.

They’d been friends for  _ years _ , living together and sleeping together and acting for all intents and purposes— like a couple. 

No wonder Ned was so annoyed. He’ll have to think of a good apology gift. Maybe a double date with him and his boyfriend. 

Yet despite the years they’d missed out on, all Peter can think is that they hadn’t missed out on anything at all— how their lives had become so intertwined and that his feelings for her had only deepened  _ because  _ of his friendship with her. 

He’d been coming home to Michelle for years, a smile on his face at the thought that even with this new revelation between them—an honesty that had been years in the making— not much of their life together, a life they’d  _ already _ built together, would actually change. 

Save for encouraging each other to go out on dates. With other people at least.

Peter can’t help but be thrilled that he gets to be the person Michelle Jones comes home to. 

“Go to sleep,” Michelle whispers, Peter blinking at her in surprise since he thought she was already there.

“I will,” he says with a laugh, obediently closing his eyes, “if you promise not to hog the blankets.”

Michelle snickers, Peter smiling as he hears her yawn into her pillow and say, “Loser.”

“You love me,” Peter says flippantly, only to open his eyes and see Michelle smiling as she sleepily opens her eyes.

“Yeah, I do,” she says quietly. 

Peter moves forward to kiss her, Michelle meeting him halfway as he pulls her closer and whispers, “I love you too.”

Peter knows he can bench press a car. He can climb up the sides of walls, can fight twenty guys to a standstill, swing across chasms thirty feet deep and can feel a bullet coming his way and move fast enough to get clear.

But something about Michelle, something about being around her— the thought now of being  _ with _ her— makes him gentle, makes him brave, makes him strong. Peter thinks with a smile that there was something about her that makes him feel happy to be alive.

Peter moves his arm to wrap around her waist, basking in the peace and the serenity that came to finally feeling as if things were clicking into place.

There weren't always a lot of things he could be thankful for, or even the chance that everything would always turn out so smoothly. 

But just for the night— the kiss deepening as the two of them move closer to each other— Peter allowed himself the chance to be thankful that for once in his life, one thing has turned out okay. 

Peter loved Michelle. He was  _ in _ love with her. 

And he knew now, without any doubt, that she was in love with him too.

**Author's Note:**

> I love it when people scream at me in the comments. Come hang with me on [tumblr](https://pursue-solitude.tumblr.com).


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